


Two Cots

by charlesworthy



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Implied Relationships, M/M, idk how to tag it when's the last time i even uploaded anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 05:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9222092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlesworthy/pseuds/charlesworthy
Summary: If you were to imply they were sleeping together, Ike would respond "Yes, always."





	

The Greil Mercenary's home had a barracks, where the men slept, and one room left for Mist and Titania. Until a certain age, Mist would complain about not sharing it with her brother, until one day she didn't. Ike didn't get that, but when Ike didn't get something he let it slide, usually.

Every one else? Not so much.

Ike did remember the day the mage came to them. How he found them was evident: they were renowned in the area for being the most effect mercenary group any village might be able to afford. Why he wanted to join so badly was any one's guess. He didn't give any explanation aside from generic ones; a combination of gold and purpose; he was an orphan anyway; he has skills he wants to put to use, and they are people that may want these skills at their disposal.

Mist had cheerfully offered him a tour after dinner. He looked about her age, after all, and Rolf was a little too young for her to be interested in. This left just enough time for the other mercenaries to complain, if they wanted to, and Shinon wanted to.

“A little brat, that's what he is,” the man grumbled. “Y'know first time Greil sends him out with us, he'll be crying and running for the hills.”

“Usually I'd say you're being too mean, but... He looks like the type, doesn't he?” Gatrie added. “I don't know what he said to the boss when they were talking, but it had to have been pretty good.”

Ike stayed quiet. He usually did, when they were talking, unless he had something to say. He didn't have an opinion about the mage, but he couldn't help feel a little bitter that some one so young, so small, could be a mercenary and he couldn't.

“Let's give him a chance before we judge,” Oscar interjected. “People who don't know him would say the same things about Rhys, but couldn't we all agree we'd be in a bad shape without him?”

Shinon grumbled, like he did when some one else was right.

“You're right,” Gatrie said, because Shinon wouldn't. “What do you think the thing on his forehead is?”

“Better not be one of those sub-human freaks,” Shinon offered. “It's bad enough we're employing children now.”

“Maybe he's a spirit charmer, is what I'm saying.”

“Where'd you even learn what that is?”

Gatrie beamed. “I'd love telling you. Remember the last time you and I went out to the tavern? There was this lass, who--”

And Ike instantly stopped paying attention.

“...And here's the men's room!” Mist's cheery voice entered the room, only slightly preceeding herself and the new recruit. “You'll sleep in here, with the boys. I don't know which bunk is free, but I know we've got a couple spares.”

The mage nodded. He wasn't smiling, but he was staring. At Ike.

“Soren, wasn't it?” Ike asked, trying to be friendly. The free bunks Mist mentioned were split between other bunkbeds. No single bunkbed was left un-claimed, but the tops or bottoms could variably be empty, including the top of Ike's. Considering how some of the others seemed to feel about Soren, and Ike's non-opinion of it, he wouldn't have been surprised if Soren ended up sleeping above Ike, whether or not it was by choice.

“Yes. Ike, I presume?” There was a smile ghosting the boy's lips.

“Was Mist talking about me? I hope it wasn't bad.”  


The smile grew. “No, it wasn't.”

Little did Ike know in that moment that those small, gentle smiles Soren was capable of would later become precious, rare treasures.

Ike and Soren shared a bunk even when more beds were open, or some men were out traveling for days-long journeys for gold or a little bit more of fame. It was clear to any that they had somehow made quick friends, despite Soren's inability to even tolerate some of the others. For his stature and appearance, he showed himself to be a capable fighter when necessary, if not as nearly experienced as some of the older members.

The only time some one couldn't rely on Ike to reasonably answer “Where's Soren?” or Soren to do the same for Ike was when Soren was out doing mercenary work or otherwise gone. Every one had pinned him as some kind of traveler on the day of his arrival, and even staying close to the group as he was (phsyically, at least, never emotionally), “Where's Soren?” became the more common inquiry. After a few years in the company, he had even started requesting trips to visit other places of Crimea, including Melior.

When Ike had finally become a mercenary, he didn't get to go on any jobs with Soren that weren't involving Elincia. Even then, they shared their tent like Titania and Mist shared a tent, and Oscar and Kieran shared a tent, and Boyd and Rolf shared a tent... Any building they stayed in, Ike and Soren shared a room with each other, if not with others.

It was weird, then, when Ike became elevated. Suddenly nobility, Begnion soldiers (and soldiers not personally acquainted with Ike) scrambled for his favor or convenience. Ike _hated it._ In no situation did it become more aparent than the first night their army--their real, true, official army had set up camp.

Ike had never slept in a tent he hadn't prepared himself, before. Ike had never slept in a tent before that was _this_ nice. Walking in struck him with some kind of sense of awe. This was better than the barracks at their old fort, which was to say, better than the standard of comfortable quality he had compared every single room to up to this point.

“I hope everything is to your liking, sir,” the soldier added. She had prepared his tent for him, apparently, and was currently standing stiffly waiting for his permission to leave.

“Can you stop with the sir thing? It's getting obnoxious...”

“Apologies, Sir, i-it would feel too informal.”

Ike sighed through his nose. Of course it would.

“Where's the other cot?”

“Pardon?”

“There's only one cot.”

“O-of course, sir! As general, why would you need to share your tent, sir?”

Ike frowned. The soldier squirmed under his gaze, even though when Ike stared in thought he never really saw anything.

“Where's Soren meant to sleep?” he asked.

“Pardon? I'm sorry, General, I don't know who you're talking about...”  
  
“ _Our tactician_.” The words were nearly venemous out of Ike's mouth. He was a little surprised at how he sounded.

“Oh! Of course, sir, my mistake,” she said. “He should have his own tent nearby... I was tasked with setting up only yours and the one for the beasts, so I wouldn't know where.”

Normally, Ike would have commanded her to say 'laguz'. Currently, something else was taking precedence.

“Soren!” he called. Before the soldier could attempt to calm or stop him, he had stepped out of his tent and was calling the strategist's name into the crisp night air. “Soren!”

Soren emerged from a nearby tent, carrying a curious look and a book, with his finger holding his place in the pages. “Is there something you needed, Ike?”

Suddenly, if Ike had something he'd meant to say, he forgot it. “I just... We're not sharing a tent.”

“Of course, there's no reason for a general, or a... Nobleman, such as it is, now, to share his tent with any one. Especially not some one like me.”

Ike frowned at Soren's self-deprecation. Sometimes, when the tactician downplayed himself it was because he was vulnerable, scared, and worn down by years of undeserved hate. Other times, it was just a convienent way for him to mention his past and present, without letting any one not already privy to that information know.

“But...” Ike started. “Don't you think it's... Odd?”

“Odd?” the mage repeated. “It isn't odd for people in our situation.”

Which, Ike assumed, Sorent meant 'it's odd for us, but not odd at all.' He wasn't satisfied with this answer. “Well...” He paused, wracking his brain for something. The soldier was still nearby, and of late Ike had been trying _ever_ so hard to keep his mouth shut when the words he'd want to say would end up hurting himself or some one around him in some stupid, contrived way.

“Normally we'd be talking strategy now, right? It's just weird that no one told me where I could find you.”

He could hear the soldier wince behind him.

“Ah, that would be strange,” Soren agreed. “But that isn't... Out of the question, I suppose. Did you have something you wished to discuss with me, tonight?”

“Uh... Yeah.” Ike was lying, and Soren was smart enough to catch onto it, but Ike still didn't know when that was. The mage was too good at his facade, sometimes. He glanced to the book. “You're not busy, are you?”

The smallest of smiles ghosted Soren's lips, but it was more than enough for Ike's chest to feel light and empty. He found himself smiling too, as the mage carefully opened his tome and gave it a little dogear on the page. “Of course not, Ike.”

“C'mon, then, we should talk privately.” Ike motioned for Soren to follow him back into his tent, and gave a little nod to the soldier who had been waiting patiently for her dismissal. “How long until she's far away enough?” Ike whispered.

Soren's smile grew a little wider. “I wouldn't be surprised if she was afraid to come near your tent again.”

“Great.” Soren's smile was infectious. Ike was disappointed that so little people were able to see it. The mage being happy was like a gift unto itself, and Ike felt simultaneously glad and sorry that no one else might know how cute it was when Soren decided to smile, or shyly tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. “So, business, right? That's what we were going to talk about?”  
  
“That's... Not quite what I assumed, but...” Soren's smile faded, and it felt like Ike just committed his first war crime.

“Well, it's business,” Ike confirmed. “And... First order of business is... Did you want to push your cot into my tent?”

Soren blushed. “Are you sure? You finally have a personal space, and you don't have to share with me or any one else. I can imagine that after so long it feels liberating or...”

“It feels empty, and... Lifeless. Besides, if we keep sharing a tent you'll keep me from just... throwing things around and making a mess. When we pack up, it won't take as long.”

“Of course.” Soren smiled again. It felt like a sunrise. “If that's what you want, I'm sure I can... obey orders, general.”

It was Ike's turn to blush, but he was smiling. “If you start calling me 'Sir', I don't know what I'll do, Soren.”

“Then for the good of the company, I suppose I'll have to refrain... Or was that an order?”

“Let's just get your cot.”


End file.
